


Hope is the Thing With Feathers

by blatheringbluejay



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Cinnamon Roll Newt Scamander, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Movie 2: Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald Spoilers, POV Tina Goldstein, Post-Movie 2: Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald, Tina Goldstein is Tired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-21 16:06:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17046701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blatheringbluejay/pseuds/blatheringbluejay
Summary: Shock, Tina thought to herself, self-evaluating as they walked through the door to regroup at Flamel’s house.I’m in shock.  The others, she’s sure, probably assumed she was being strong.  Holding it in, gritting her teeth, resolved to fight.  But the truth was that she’d simply shut down inside, and couldn’t seem to find the will to snap out of it.





	Hope is the Thing With Feathers

**Author's Note:**

> Does the world need another post-TCOG Newtina fic? I don't know, maybe not, but this wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it down.
> 
> Now translated into Chinese! You can read it [here](http://obscurusbooks.lofter.com/post/1ec9248f_12dc2a062) or [here](https://www.weibo.com/6187921123/Hg3eUmEjS?type=comment#_rnd1549854826550). Many thanks to Silver_K for translating.

_Shock,_ Tina thought to herself, self-evaluating as they walked through the door to regroup at Flamel’s house. _I’m in shock_. The others, she’s sure, probably assumed she was being strong. Holding it in, gritting her teeth, resolved to fight. But the truth was that she’d simply shut down inside, and couldn’t seem to find the will to snap out of it. 

Theseus seemed to be in a similar state. _Maybe it’s an auror thing_ , she thought, absently, as she watched him collapse into a chair. She was barely aware of her own boneless crumpling onto the chaise opposite him, adrenaline no longer keeping her standing. She knew everything should hurt, but she just felt so incredibly _numb_ to it all.

Jacob, surprisingly (or maybe not), was the first to speak. “So what now?” he asked, voice cracking a bit but his face the very picture of determination, “what’s the plan? We’re going after him, right? We’re gonna fight? Go get Queenie back?”

Tina felt her insides drop even more at the mention of her sister’s name.

“And Credence,” Nagini’s gentle voice quietly added as she stepped up next to Jacob. She’d been mostly silent so far, and introductions had been short, but all could see she was fiercely attached to Credence and firmly on their side.

“We should talk to Dumbledore as soon as we can,” Newt’s gentle voice was a soothing balm, which she was sure sounded fairly ridiculous as soon as she thought it, but in the months since she’d last heard him speak she’d forgotten how calming the soft timbre of his voice could be. 

Theseus snorted, but Newt ignored him. “I need to ask him about this,” Newt held up the pendant the niffler had stolen. “It might be the key to Grindelwald’s defeat.”

“It’s late,” Flamel spoke up from where he’d been hovering in the corner of the room like a ghost, his tone both gentle and somehow commanding. “Daylight is still hours away, and you should all rest. You are of course welcome to stay here.”

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Yusuf replied when nobody else did. Tina had, admittedly, completely forgotten about Kama. She wasn’t sure why he was even still with them, but he’d fought alongside her - his wand plunged into the ground next to hers - and so she supposed he had earned some sort of, at the very least, tentative trust. And, if she were honest with herself, right now she just really didn’t care why he was there.

There was a light thump as Newt set his case down on the floor and opened it, and Tina’s head automatically turned to the sound. “I need to see to this little fellow,” Newt smiled gently as he looked at the injured niffler still cradled in his coat, “I’ll be in my case if, um, anyone needs me.” His eyes met hers briefly before they glanced away, his gaze falling and holding on his brother instead. He frowned. “Or, um, if...anyone else needs...patching up.”

The echo of his steps into the case disappeared, but he had left the lid open in silent invitation. It was then that she noticed what Newt obviously had moments earlier. “Theseus,” she called in a croaking whisper, “you’re bleeding.”

There was a bright line of crimson oozing across the other auror’s neck, a sharp contrast against the collar of his white shirt. Theseus didn’t look at her. “It’s nothing,” he insisted, “just a scrape, I’m fine.”

“Maybe so,” she glanced as his face, trying to meet his eyes, “but you should let your brother patch you up anyway. I think...I think you both could use it.”

Theseus finally met her eyes and looked at her for a long moment, expression inscrutable, before silently standing and descending into the suitcase. He closed the lid behind him.

Tina felt ready to collapse from just that small amount of focused communication, until she remembered that she’d already done that. Right. She and Theseus hadn’t even been properly introduced - it was no wonder he’d looked at her oddly, but fighting for your lives together seemed to somehow make introductions somewhat pointless. She hoped he and Newt could offer each other some sort of comfort as they grieved for the woman they’d both loved...in whatever ways they’d loved her.

As if reading her thoughts about grieving ( _no, not grieving, she’s still alive!_ ) the same person, Jacob seemed to suddenly appear at her side out of nowhere (quite the feat considering he couldn’t apparate), and collapsed down next to her. Neither spoke for a long moment.

“We’re gonna get her back,” Jacob broke the silence, taking her hand as he said it. His hand was warm, and it made her aware of how cold her own fingers were in contrast. Was she cold? She couldn’t tell. It was so difficult to feel anything. “She’s not gone for good, Tina.”

Tina had no idea how he could remain so optimistic when Queenie had so resolutely walked away from him, from all of them (from _her)_ with barely a moment of hesitation. “She made her decision, Jacob,” she replied blandly. Maybe if she repeated it in a clinical, detached tone, it would make it hurt a little less each time she said it.

“No,” he said, firmly. “No, see, I don’t accept that. He’s brainwashin’ her, trickin’ her! Queenie would never go along with that madman if he hadn’t promised her exactly what she wanted. We have to find her, and talk to her - make her see that he’s _lying_.”

Tina had no response. The hurt was still too strong, too much. Jacob, seeming to sense this, let the subject drop and continued to sit next to her in silence.

“Hey,” he said after a long moment had passed, squeezing her hand to get her attention. “Have you and Newt buried the hatchet yet? You do know he’s crazy about you, don’tcha?”

Did she? Possibly, if she let herself daydream about the way he’d looked at her - those wide eyes that appeared far more innocent than she knew they were, or the awkward stammer and the way he shuffled, as though he was stammering with his entire body. But those thoughts led to feelings, and she was fresh out of those at the moment. “Jacob,” she sighed, “now is really not the time -”

“Now is _exactly_ the time,” he argued, perhaps a little too loudly. “We don’t know what’s about to happen. Everything could go to hell tomorrow - it’s already halfway there tonight - and you shouldn’t let another moment go to waste while worrying about misunderstandings. I’m tellin’ you, the guy can’t see straight when you’re around. Or even when you’re not around. He just kept talkin’ about how he’d missed you, and how he didn’t know what to say to you, and how pretty you are.” He frowned, and shook his head fondly. “Also kept talking about salamanders. He’s hopeless, but he’s tryin’.”

Tina couldn’t help the fond smile that pulled her lips. Despite everything that had happened, thinking about Newt’s clumsy but heartfelt attempt at a compliment was managing to warm away a little of the numbness. Her heart felt like it was tingling - pins and needles as feeling slowly started to come back. “He...may have mentioned something about that.”

“Oh, jeez. I told him not to go comparing you to no salamanders!”

She could feel her smile growing. “Coming from Newt, it was probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” Jacob’s face was a blend of perplexed and disgusted, and she knew her smile had reached her eyes. It felt good to _feel._ “Magical salamanders are born in fire. It’s reflected in their eyes. It’s actually kinda poetic, in Newt’s way.”

Jacob continued to look perplexed. “There are _magical_ salamanders?” Tina nodded. “That live in fire...instead of water?”

“Yes.”

“Well THAT’S not confusing or nothin’.” He muttered what sounded like _“wizards”_ under his breath, making Tina smile again, weak as it was.

Jacob met her eyes, expression serious once more. “He wants to make things right between you, and you should let him. I know you’re crazy about him too. Don’t push love aside when you have a chance at it. Not now.” He sighed, squeezing her hand once more as he stood. “Besides, we could all use a little happiness, and I don’t think anyone would mind seein’ you two lovebirds bein’ all moony-eyed at each other. Might be nice to have something to smile about. Just talk to him, okay?”

“I will,” she assured him with a soft smile as he moved back toward the others. 

Her smile faded as Newt’s case opened and Theseus slowly climbed out of it. The angry red line was still across his neck, but it was no longer bleeding, and looked much better. When his eyes caught Tina, she could see fresh tear-tracks on his face, but he looked a little less in shock than he had before entering the case. His entire body seemed weary - emotions drained and only exhaustion remaining. Tina could empathize. Theseus seemed to be silently assessing her for a moment, ever the auror, before giving her a gentle smile and turning to climb the staircase to the upper portion of the house, obviously wanting to be alone.

The open case sat there, silently calling out to her. She stared at it for a full minute before, mind made up, she stood with a determined sigh and moved to enter it. Stepping down into a suitcase never stopped being a strange concept to wrap her brain around - or her feet, for that matter, as they stumbled a bit on the ladder. As she descended she turned to see Newt bent over a bubbling cauldron, mixing bits of things from various bottles and vials together.

“Changed your mind? I started brewing the sleeping potion even though you said no, but I didn’t expect you back so -” he turned, seeing her, and stopped mid-sentence. “Tina,” he breathed out, eyes locking with hers, and she didn’t think she could ever get used to the way he said her name with such reverence, as though he was in awe of her very existence. His voice wasn’t only soothing - she’d apparently also forgotten how the gentle, at times shaky, cadence of it could _affect_ her so.

“I thought you were Theseus,” he explained, blushing slightly as he pulled his eyes away and ducked his head.

“Yeah, I get that a lot, we’re both so tall.” She winced as the joke flatly left her mouth. It didn’t feel right to be joking right now, but she’d often, however inapporpriately, used sarcasm to deflect from tense situations. Newt cracked a gentle smile anyway as he finished adding ingredients, then turned to give her his full attention.

“Do you need anything? Are you hurt?” he asked as his eyes scanned over her, looking for injury.

“No,” she said, her reassurance pulling his eyes back up to hers, “I just...wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Oh,” he whispered, still holding her gaze. They stared at each other for a long moment, unsure of what to say, before they each broke the silence simultaneously.

“I’m so sorry about Queenie -”

“I’m sorry about Leta -”

They blurted out their condolences, then, feeling a bit unsure of what else to add while it was still so raw, Tina awkwardly looked away, noticing he’d done the same.

She decided a subject change was in order, and it was up to her to cut to the chase. They weren’t getting any younger, and Jacob had a point. “Listen, Newt,” she began, glancing back up at his still-averted eyes, “I wanted to apologize for how I’ve been treatin’ you.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” he mumbled, smiling nervously, “that bloody magazine…”

“But I could’ve asked,” she insisted. “I just thought...I mean, I knew you’d loved her for so long, and it just...seemed to make sense.”

“I didn’t though,” he spoke up, taking a step toward her as he lifted his head to meet her eyes, “I mean...I did, but...but not in the way you think, Tina. Not for a long time now.” He looked down again, frowning as he seemed to be gathering his thoughts. “I’ll miss her,” he confessed with a weary sigh. “But in a way I feel as though I’ve been mourning her for years. We’d only recently begun speaking again, and it was never as comfortable as it used to be, but I...well I guess it feels like the second time I’ve lost her. Though I’m...I’m glad we got to...reconcile, somewhat, as it were. It’s painful, but Theseus is feeling the pain much more sharply than I am, and...in a different way.”

“How is he?” she asked, with genuine concern.

“Hurting,” Newt answered truthfully. “I believe he’s still a little in shock, as we all are, I imagine, but he seems to be open to letting himself grieve, which I must admit is a relief. I was afraid he’d bottle it all up until it broke him completely.”

Tina nodded, all too aware of her own tendency to do just that.

“But I’m sorry that what was printed in that magazine hurt you, Tina. I had hoped that I’d made it quite clear in my letters that I…” He trailed off, averting his gaze once again and taking a step back from her. “Well, no matter. I assume you’ll be eager to get back to New York once this is all wrapped up.”

She frowned. “Well I’ll have to, eventually, to give my report and all that, but...Newt, I’m not in any hurry to leave just yet.”

“But you...your…” he sighed, seeming to deflate before her as he shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at his shoes. “Queenie told me you’ve been seeing someone, another auror, um...Achilles something, and...and that’s wonderful, Tina, I’m happy for you, but I...assumed you’d be wanting to get back to him.”

_Oh, for - was THAT what was upsetting him?_ “Newt,” she called gently, begging with her voice for him to look at her. “Don’t be happy.” 

His head shot up at the familiar words, and his eyes finally met her face as she smiled softly at his confused expression. “What…”

“I’m not exactly ‘seeing someone.’ I went to dinner with Achilles Tolliver twice, and all he did was talk shop. He’s a nice enough fella, but I’m pretty sure the only reason he asked me out was because I was there when Grindelwald was captured and he wanted to talk about it. He also constantly tried to one-up me with stories about his big important crime busts, and it was all really kinda...tedious. Other than both being aurors, we really have nothing in common.” She smiled as Newt’s entire posture visibly perked up. “And, to be honest, the only reason I agreed to go out with him was because I was trying to...move on...from you.” The last two words came out in a whisper, and she could feel the blood rushing to her face from her confession.

“Oh, Tina,” he breathed out her name again in that same reverent tone, making her heart soar and her knees a little weak. “I missed you. I wanted to deliver a copy of my book to you in person like I said, I really did, but the Ministry banned me from international travel and I - I came to Paris anyway to find you, because...because-”

“Wait, you’re here illegally?” she cut him off. He had the decency to at least look somewhat sheepish. “Nevermind, I don’t care. If we’re not on American soil, you’re not my problem,” she teased. His words caught up to her though, and she felt herself blushing again. “You came here, illegally, for...me?”

Newt gazed at her for a moment, wide-eyed awe making his boyish features look even younger. “Well, yes. I couldn’t...I needed to see you. I had to-to explain. That the magazine was wrong. That I…” He reached out and took one of her hands, gently cradling it between both of his with the same delicate care she’d seen him handle his smaller creatures with. “That Tolliver fellow is a fool, an absolute fool. To be in your presence and not be...utterly captivated by you, Tina, it’s unthinkable. You’re...you’re compassionate, and good-hearted, and fiercely intelligent, and you _question_ orders, and you _think_ before you act...all things that make you different from other aurors, and I’m sorry that I didn’t think when I wrote that letter and that you thought I was lumping you in with the rest of them, I was just so _frustrated_ and…” he trailed off as he seemed to realize he was rambling. His eyes lifted to hers and held them, and the raw emotion in them nearly made her gasp. “And...you’re beautiful, Tina. So beautiful, inside and out, and...and...I care for you. Very much.”

Tina could feel herself blushing at the open sincerity of his words. “You really think I’m pretty?” It wasn’t the compliment that meant the most to her out of everything he’d said in his string of rambling praise - she’d never been vain or even very interested in that sort of attention from men (in fact, she was often flat-out opposed to it) - but some previously-unknown romantic-minded butterflies in her stomach gave a flutter of wings at the knowledge that he admired her physically as well as mentally.

“I…” Newt looked utterly dumbfounded. “Yes?”

“It’s just...I’ve never _minded_ really, but...nobody’s ever called me beautiful before.” Mercy Lewis, she sounded ridiculous.

Ridiculous or not, there was nothing short of devastation written plainly on his face, his soulful eyes shining with unshed tears. “Then you’ve not only been surrounded by fools, but blind fools.”

“Well,” she said with a playful smile, “you think graphorns are beautiful.”

“I don’t…” he looked flustered, and swayed back and forth on his feet, “well, I do, yes...but...it’s not the same at all...you’re...I…”

“Relax, Newt,” she smiled, her eyes shining with adoration, “I’m just teasing you.”

“Oh,” he smiled awkwardly, blushing as he looked down at their joined hands.

“I care for you too,” she confessed, then grimaced, glancing sideways with embarrassment. “I mean, obviously, or I wouldn’t have been so upset by that magazine...”

“Tina,” he whispered her name, and it drew her eyes to his like a magnet. Just as he had that day on the docks in New York, he lifted a hand to gently graze her cheek. His eyes were shining with hope and joy, but they were still red-rimmed from the crying he must have done earlier. 

And suddenly it was all too much. The dam of numbness that had been keeping back her emotions burst, and all her feelings flooded out all at once. Tears welled up in her eyes as she let out a strangled sob. “Newt, I know you’re not much of a hugger, but could I maybe…” she sniffed, trying to hold back enough to get the words out but failing, managing only to make a vague open-arm gesture in his direction.

“Of course,” he soothed, pulling her into his embrace. “Come here, Tina.”

He was a little stiff at first, but as they both got used to the feel of being in one-another’s arms they slowly melted together. Her arms clung to him as she bent her face into his neck, openly crying into the collar of his shirt. She could feel her blouse becoming damp from his own tears as he tucked into her shoulder as well. They were nearly matched in height, and if not for the circumstances she might have delighted in the feel of his firm torso pressed against hers or the way their hips nestled flush against one another. But this was grief, and right now his embrace was comforting rather than thrilling. She simply held him, and he held her, and she wept. Wept for her sister, for his lost childhood friend (who she thinks she might’ve liked if she’d had the chance to get to know), for him, for his brother, for herself, for everyone who’d died that night, for everyone who would die in the future. And she wept for the two of them - that they’d found each other but everything was falling apart around them, and there was sadness and a little guilt that they could even consider being happy at a time like this. What should have been a lovely reunion was colored with grief. It was too much, and she was certain she was crumbling into pieces.

“I’ve got you,” Newt whispered, as though sensing her thoughts. “I’ve got you, Tina. You’re okay.”

He was soothing her almost as though she were a scared creature, and she realized, with a pained sob, that that’s what he’d been doing all night, for all of them. Being strong for her, being strong for his brother...taking their burdens on himself. She’d seen him share a moment with Jacob as well, as they’d left the cemetery. Rather than shut himself away alone like he’d no doubt have preferred to do, he’d left his suitcase open in invitation in case anyone needed his help. They were hurting - delicate injured birds coping with loss- and he did what he always did with creatures that needed him. It simply wasn’t in Newt Scamander’s nature to ignore a hurting soul in need of rescue or comfort.

“I’m sorry,” she pulled back, wiping her eyes as she smiled shakily at him.

“Whatever for?” The confusion was plain on his own tear-streaked face as he dropped his arms from her embrace.

“For not realizing...you’ve been tryin’ to hold everyone together, but nobody’s holding _you_.”

“I believe _you_ were, just now,” he replied lightly, looking away slightly as he flashed a grin that didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“You know what I mean,” she said, giving him a tender look. “You must be exhausted. Emotionally.”

He gave a noncommittal shrug, but she could see from the tiny smile that pulled his lips that she’d gotten it right, and he was pleased that she’d noticed. “Well, we all are, at least somewhat,” he said with a weary little sigh, then cocked his head to look at her from beneath the curtain of his too-long hair as he smiled shyly. “Do you feel...better, now, at all?”

“I...do,” she said, surprised to find that she meant it. “Thanks for lettin’ me literally cry on your shoulder, I guess.” Her voice was muffled with embarrassment, which earned her a gentle look of compassion from Newt.

“Humans are silly creatures. We’re evolutionarily designed to find emotional catharsis through tears, and yet we’re all so afraid of letting anyone know we cry.”

“I guess nobody likes to look vulnerable,” she shrugged.

“But that’s just it,” he sighed, “we’re all vulnerable. Every one of us. To so many things.”

A look passed between them for a long moment, the weight of all the different emotions they’d experienced in the last few hours - some horrible, some wonderful - hanging heavily around them - a thick fog of despair mixed with the sudden dizzying feeling of possibility.

“Well,” Tina broke the silence - and the charged atmosphere - eyes darting away for a moment as she felt her cheeks flush, “You still need to take some time to focus on yourself. I’ll get out of your hair...give you some time alone with your creatures to...decompress.” She gazed at him affectionately as she took a step back, intent on heading to the ladder and out of his case.

“Wait!” he called, and gently reached for her hand, squeezing it as he pulled her back. “Please don’t leave. I... _would_ like to be alone, I think, for a little while at least, but...I wouldn’t mind being alone with you. I-I mean, not _alone with_ you,” he blushed, and she found it absolutely adorable despite the grief that still hung in the air around them, “but...um...both of us, alone...together?”

“All right,” she smiled, somehow knowing exactly what he meant. She glanced up at the lid to his case, frowning slightly. “I’d like to check on Nagini though, first.”

“Is that the girl who was with Credence?”

“Yeah,” Tina nodded, “she doesn’t really know anyone, and she’s probably a little frightened. I was too shook up to think to check on her earlier.” She sighed, sadly. “She’s a maledictus.” 

Newt’s eyes widened and then turned downcast. “Oh. That’s…” he gently shook his head, pity and compassion etched in his features. “Do let her know that if she needs a safe and comfortable place to...to transform, that my case is open to her?” He frowned. “Not that I’m suggesting that she’s a beast,” he hastily added, “just that it’s quiet here, with plenty of privacy, and it’s free from any sort of...judgement. In case she’s not entirely comfortable with her condition.”

“I’ll tell her,” Tina said, smiling gently at his kindness. She turned back toward the ladder, letting her hand slip out of his as they reluctantly parted. “I’ll be right back.” He nodded, watching as she climbed.

\---------------------------

She returned a little while later to find Newt standing not far from where she’d left him, staring down a rather battered-looking tea kettle, brow furrowed and seeming deep in thought.

“Hey, Newt? Everything okay?” she prodded gently, not wanting to startle him too badly. He jumped slightly, then turned and smiled at her sheepishly from under the fringe of his hair.

“Tina, hello. Yes, everything’s fine. Except...I was going to make tea, you see, but I realized that I didn’t know if you like tea, because I’ve only seen you drink coffee and you never mentioned tea in any of your letters, but, why would you, because that’s not exactly a letter-worthy topic and it would have been absurd and mildly...alarming, if you’d gone on about tea in the middle of telling me how busy you’ve been at work, or how beautiful New York looks with a fresh blanket of snow, or-”

“Newt,” she cut him off with an amused smile, endeared by his rambling, but half expecting him to go through the entire list of every topic she’d ever written about if she didn’t stop him. “I like tea.”

“Oh. Good. That’s...good. Would you like a cup? It’s chamomile.”

“That sounds swell, thanks.”

He pointed his wand at the kettle to rapidly heat the water, the poured it over the small pot of leaves and herbs to steep. “I’ve brewed a sleeping potion,” he mentioned as he worked, “Theseus refused but I thought he might change his mind, or I thought someone else might want it. It tends to knock me out completely for a full night no matter how little I take of it, and It’d be rather useless tonight. Daylight will be here soon enough, and I’d prefer to get an early start on the day. Theseus plans to contact the Ministry first thing and arrange transport to Hogwarts for us so we can talk to Dumbledore, and then I want to get back home to see to the rest of my creatures before I’ll feel like resting. Um,” he nodded to the teapot, “hence the chamomile. It’s calming, without putting me to sleep completely. You are of course welcome to the sleeping potion if you’d like.”

“No,” she shook her head, “I’m in the same boat as you. I’ll sleep tomorrow. Wherever I end up.”

Newt frowned and fiddled with the teacups, not meeting her eyes. The cups were mostly of a practical sort, Tina noticed - dingy off-white heavy ceramic, stained from years of holding tea, with a few chips along the rim. But each of them had a small hand-painted beast adorning the side, and she wondered if it was Newt’s own handiwork or if he’d purchased them that way. They felt so very _him_ and she was suddenly so overwhelmed with affection that she almost missed his question. “Do you think MACUSA will want you to come back right away?” His face and tone easily betrayed the disappointment he felt at the thought. Tina was right there with him.

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “My guess is they won’t know what to do with me immediately. It depends on if they want me to work on something there, or if they want me to continue tracking down Credence and Grindelwald here in Europe.” Newt had finished pouring the tea, so she reached for a cup (one with a proudly-postured gray-feathered hippogriff that bowed as she picked it up - the other cup featured a striking red dragon, and based on the excessiveness of the tea staining and the extra-worn look, she’d assumed it was his favorite and left it for him) and cradled it in both hands, letting the warmth of the old sturdy stoneware seep into her skin. She sighed, knowing there would be more to consider about her future assignments, as far as MACUSA was concerned. “Queenie complicates things,” she admitted in a soft voice, almost a whisper. “They may think I’ll have some insight into how to find her or turn her back to our side, so they might want me to stay working here. Or…” she paused to take a sip of her tea, and it stopped her train of thought in its tracks. “Hey, this is really good.”

Newt bashfully looked away toward the tea as the compliment caused his cheeks to tinge pink. “I dry the flowers myself. There’s a patch of it that grows in my mother’s garden, and I always try to remember to pick some when I visit.”

Tina smiled wistfully, her imagination conjuring an image of Newt outdoors in a garden, shirtsleeves rolled up and hair wind-ruffled, picking chamomile flowers and conversing with the honeybees - offering assurances that he’d leave plenty behind for them. She wanted to ask him about his mother, and about his family’s home in England. She wanted to listen to him talk about growing up with hippogriffs and about all of his childhood adventures, but she’s suddenly aware that he’d been gently calling her back from her wandering thoughts.

“Tina,” he prodded, gently touching her hands where they were wrapped around her teacup, “...or?”

“Hmm?” she was confused for the moment it took her to remember that she’d trailed-off mid-sentence. Her imaginary Newt - sun-dappled and beaming at her from the garden her mind had conjured for him - faded away to be replaced by the weary and troubled Newt standing before her. “Oh,” she sighed. “Or.” Taking strength from the light touch of his hand on hers, she pushed on. “Or, they’ll relentlessly hunt down Queenie with orders to attack on sight, and they’ll consider me a liability to that cause and they’ll chain me to a desk back in New York where I can’t meddle.”

Newt sucked in his breath, wide-eyed. “They wouldn’t. They _can’t._ ”

“She’s a legilimens who by all appearances is now following and working for Grindelwald,” Tina shrugged, “They definitely can, and probably will. And if they don’t know she’s a legilimens, they’re sure to figure it out soon enough, and then I’ll likely be in hot water for not revealing it sooner.”

Newt looked both stricken and angry, somehow at the same time. “Well then in that case, my opinion of aurors remains firmly unchanged.” He gazed at her, features softening to compassion. “I’m so sorry, Tina.”

“Don’t worry,” she gritted her teeth, resolved. “If it comes to that, I’ll just...not go home. I’m not letting them hurt her. They’ll have to hunt me down too.”

His gaze shifted to a look of pure pride and admiration. “See? I told you. Middle-head.”

She smiled despite the gravity of the situation. It felt...good...to have someone believe in her so completely.

“And,” Newt continued, “if it comes to it, I’m sure I could find some undetectable nook to illegally harbour a fugitive in, should you have need of it.”

“I’m sure you could.” She raised her eyebrows and gave him a stern look, though there was no actual weight behind it.

She could see the smile pulling at the corners of his mouth as he turned his attention toward his teacup. His fingers slipped away from where they’d been resting on her hand in order to pick up his cup, but he gently took her elbow in his other hand. “Come with me?” he nodded toward the door of his work shed as he began to guide her into the larger world of his magical suitcase.

She’d been down in the little world he’d created multiple times, but Tina’s breath still caught whenever she stepped through the door and took in the vastness of the space - the sights, sounds, and smells of what she’d come to think of as Newt’s sanctuary. His touch was plain to see in every aspect of its creation, and she loved it.

They passed the niffler’s gold-lined burrow, and Tina smiled in relief to see the little creature curled up fast asleep, exhausted from his harrowing adventure but no longer appearing any worse for wear. She’d have to slip him a few coins in the morning.

Newt stopped when they reached the mooncalf meadow. “I come here sometimes, at night, when I can’t sleep. I find it relaxing.” He led her through the herd of softly cooing creatures who largely paid them no mind after they seemed to realize there were no food pellets forthcoming. Toward the back of the enclosure the grass seemed to suddenly pitch downhill, an effect to make the scene on the gently swaying backdrop appear farther off in the distance. Though Tina knew it was all an illusion, it looked for all the world like they were standing at the top of a hill overlooking a beautiful, peaceful valley. Newt motioned toward a rock outcrop, and, letting go of her elbow, he eased himself down to a sitting position with his back against the stone. He set his tea down on a flat bit of rock that jutted out by his side - no doubt created for that exact purpose - and began to untie his boots. 

Tina lowered herself to sit next to him as he finished removing his boots and unceremoniously yanked off his socks. There was a peaceful little smile on his face as he sank his bare toes into the cool grass and wiggled them around. Tina couldn’t help but smile in response. Newt, she’d come to realize, was the sort of person who delighted in simple pleasures. She was aware that some folks thought him odd, and even annoying, but his passion for creatures - both the love he had for them and his fierce anger at their mistreatment - and the joy in which he looked at the world with, at times, an almost child-like wonder could only ever be endearing to her. He had his moments of being a frustrating, nonchalant law-breaker, and he could certainly be a little abrasively abrupt at times, but he went about life with a certain sense of whimzy, and she admired and envied him for it. She also cursed the darkness in the world that threatened to snuff out his beautiful light - the darkness that made them have to fight wars when she’d rather be spending her time learning how many different ways she could make him smile or blush. Newt was hardly innocent or untouched by the horrors of war or the devastation of grief, but he hadn’t let it break his spirit. She hated the thought of having to watch every new bit of darkness chip away at him while they struggled to _live_ \- not just survive. None of it was fair, and she allowed herself a moment of petulance to pout about it as she silently handed him her teacup and took off her own shoes and socks. After indulging in her own toe-wiggling in the grass, she settled back against the rock (which was really much softer than it by all rights should have been) and took back her tea when he offered it to her.

They sat there in silence while sipping the soothing chamomile, each lost in their own thoughts as the minutes stretched by. The valley spread before them truly was breathtaking, Tina thought, impressed with Newt’s ability to not only create practical habitats but to _design_ them to be beautiful. Only the occasional flutter of the fabric betrayed the illusion. She wondered if the moonlit valley and star-filled sky was based on a real place he’d visited, or if he simply conjured it from his imagination. Maybe someday she’d ask, but right now she didn’t want to shatter the peaceful silence that surrounded them. 

Eventually their cups were empty and their bodies, if not their minds, were calmed. Newt sent the teacups flying back to the shed with a flick of his wand, and then settled back more fully against the rock outcrop behind him. Tina hesitated for a moment, unsure if she should simply continue sitting next to him or lean into him a bit more comfortably, or if he’d even welcome that sort of contact. He made the decision for her as he gently smiled and extended his arm in invitation. She scooched closer and nestled against his side, sighing as his arm draped around her.

“I forgot to ask,” his voice softly broke the silence, a sheepish tone causing it to waver a bit, “how is Nagini? And the others?”

Tina smiled into his shoulder and turned her head to reply. “Nagini’s gonna be okay, I think. Yusuf has kinda taken her under his wing, it seems. I think they both feel a little like outsiders.” Tina wondered if they’d get the chance to change that. “She’s also got Jacob looking out for her. I think they’re bonding over not being able to use a wand. He was doing an over-the-top mocking impression of a wizard, waving a pencil around and making up silly spells, and he actually got her to laugh.”

“That sounds like Jacob,” Newt replied, deep fondness evident in his voice. “Always trying to lighten everyone’s spirits. He’s a good man.”

“Yeah.” Tina sighed, thinking about how badly everything had gone wrong. “I like Jacob. I never really did have anything against him and Queenie being together. I just got so scared. She’s all I had, our entire lives, and the thought of her being locked up...I panicked. She saw in my head the kinds of things I’d seen and heard about happening to mixed families. No-maj parents ripped away from their children and obliviated, witches and wizards put in prison while their children were sent away to live with whatever family would take them in, or, worse, to an orphanage. I couldn’t stand the thought of that happening to them. Jacob agreed with me that the risk was too high, and she hated me for it, sayin’ I turned him against her. Things were said - things I deeply regret. And now…”

“It’s not your fault, Tina,” Newt squeezed her against him reassuringly. 

“It kinda is though, a little bit. I know it is, and I’ve accepted that.” She could tell Newt was gearing up to protest, so she kept talking. “But it’s okay, because I’m gonna make it right. I’m going to find her, and apologize, and talk to her, and do everything I can to be supportive - like I shoulda tried to do all along. They can live here in Paris, or somewhere in England...somewhere where she can marry a no-maj and have a family without breaking any laws. I was so afraid of losing her, and then I went and managed to do just that.” She sighed again. “I know it was her choice to step through that fire, and I’m not blaming myself for that, but I know our arguing in-part drove her away, and straight to his influence. If I’d just tried harder to listen instead of being so stubborn…” She trailed off, burying her face in Newt’s shoulder. “I just want my baby sister back, safe and sound.”

“We’ll find her, Tina,” Newt reassured as he gently leaned his head to rest atop her head. “It’ll be okay.”

“Do you really believe that?” she half-mumbled into his shirt.

He sighed, considering for a moment. “I have to,” he finally spoke, voice determined. “I have to have hope that everything will, for the most part, work out. I know it doesn’t always, realistically, but I have to believe that goodness can win over evil, or otherwise...well, it’s just too difficult to find a reason to keep doing what we do.” He sighed, fingers absently trailing back and forth across her upper arm. “I’ve seen so many mistreated creatures in my travels, and I’ll always respond to tips or rumors of trafficking or abuse, because I have to do what I can. As long as there’s a...a _chance_ that I can help, well...then there’s a chance. Even if I’m too late and I only get there in time to offer some poor beast comfort at the end - just to help ease its suffering and let it know that all humans aren’t cruel, and that it didn’t deserve what happened to it...well, that’s at least something.” He sniffled a bit, and Tina reached up to cover his hand with hers, slipping her fingers in between his where they rested against her shoulder. 

“I guess I understand that,” she considered, voice a bit rough with emotion. “In my job we do a lot of good, but sometimes the bad guys get away, and sometimes people die, and sometimes it’s all you can do to keep going forward. I guess we just gotta trust that there will always be good endings as well as bad, and hope that there’s more of one than the other.” Newt squeezed her into his side, giving her a sort of sideways hug, and she found his presence both reassuring and grounding. “I was never very good at pretending,” she confessed, “when our parents got sick, Queenie was just figuring out that she could hear bits and pieces of people's’ thoughts, and I tried so hard to only think happy things. I repeated it in my head over and over - _they’ll be okay, they’re gonna get better_ \- I didn’t want her to have to think about the alternative. But they still died, and I wonder if the shock would’ve been a little easier on her if I hadn’t tried so hard to convince her everything was fine. I felt like I’d failed her, somehow. After that, I vowed to protect her in every way that I could, but that I’d never again let her believe in false hope. It’s why I fought against her and Jacob so hard...I knew it would end very badly if they were discovered, and I only let her see the worst possible outcome.” She gave a little sniffle of her own. “I guess I got that wrong, too.”

“There’s a compromise, I think,” Newt whispered gently. “Hope is a wonderful thing to hold on to, it’s what gets us through the cruelties of life, but one has to be prepared to face the possibility of disappointment and despair.” He shifted a bit next to her, straightening his neck with an audible pop as tired vertebrae slipped back into place, then sighed and brushed his lips against her hair, so lightly she wouldn’t have been sure he’d done it if not for the warmth of his breath. “Not that I think for one moment that believing good will prevail is false hope,” he continued, “I believe history shows us that evil will always inevitably be stopped. It just...might take a long time to get there, and there’s certain to be much more grief along the way.”

“But we’ll fight,” Tina said, determination in her words as she squeezed his hand. “Together.”

“Yes,” he replied, and she could hear the smile in his voice. “Together.”

Hope, she mused, was one thing they all had in common, and the thing that would keep them fighting. 

Maybe it would be enough.

\-----------------------------------

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet - never - in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me.

-Emily Dickinson

 

**Author's Note:**

> I had no clue what to title this until I wrote the very end, and the theme of hope immediately brought to mind the poem above. And, hey, things with feathers are right up Newt's alley, so it seemed appropriate. After re-reading the poem itself I felt compelled to include it at the end, because it fits the entire post-movie tone rather perfectly.


End file.
